


One Headlight

by DreamWolfie



Series: Playlist [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Suicide, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamWolfie/pseuds/DreamWolfie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was just a little too late but in the end all is forgiven and their souls remain together for eternity. </p><p>Sad but a happy(-ish) end. Inspired by "One Headlight" by The Wallflowers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Headlight

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song 'One Headlight' by The Wallflowers mixed with some elements of my own.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. They belong to Moffat, Gattis, and most importantly, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Nor do I own the song 'One Headlight', that belongs to The Wallflowers. Great band by the way.  
> Enjoy the story.

It seems so long ago that I faked my death to save him. That I had to lose my only friend. But even though I tried to convince him that I was a fake, he still wouldn't buy the lie, not even for a moment. Another bit of proof of his loyalty. Another reason why I love him.

When I came back to get him, I asked Mrs. Hudson where he was, after I was beat with a frying pan. She gave me probably the most saddest look I've ever seen on anyone, and said he died of a broken heart. I knew it was my fault. Now mine is in the same condition. 

Yesterday was the day of the funeral.

I stayed out all night just wandering the streets of London even though Mrs. Hudson said I could continue living in the flat.

I returned at dawn and Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to accompany me to the cemetery. A personal funeral, kind of. 

I always knew he was attracted to me and possibly loved me. I also knew that my 'death' would not be easy on him, but I never thought this would be the consequence. This was not what I wanted for us. For him. He was supposed to be alive and happy right now. Possibly with a family of his own since I could no longer chase away those boring women.

When we reached his grave, I instantly dropped to my knees and didn't even try to hold back my tears. He was buried next to where I should've been. Where I should be.

She lowered herself to wrap a comforting arm around me, then the other into a warm embrace. Eventually it got a bit too cold for her and she went back to Baker Street. I decided to stay.

I sat there for quite a while, listening to the cool winters wind blowing through the cemetery trees and thinking. Remembering all the cases, all the clues we put all together to find a killer or thief. 

I stayed there all day and into the evening until the streetlights came on. I got up and started walking back to 221B, not even bothering to hail a cab. 

As I walked into the flat for the first time in three years, I noticed it smelled like whiskey, cheap wine, and, a bit surprisingly, cigarettes. More evidence of his long depression. This place was usually always a mess, whether it be piles of case files stacked up in the living room or my experiments in the kitchen. Or the totes and boxes piled up from the Blind Banker case.

Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it all burn. But I quickly get rid of that thought. I don't want to destroy the memories this place has been home to. Plus I could never do that to Mrs. Hudson, even though I would see to it that she had enough money to buy a lovely new home. Maybe somewhere in the country, she might like that. But no. This was the place we called home.

Sometimes I wonder why he hung around this place. I was so used to everyone leaving after about a week but he stayed, even after I was gone.

After a two and a half weeks, I had managed nothing. My name had been cleared. I didn't even go back to working cases anymore. Hell, I still hadn't walked back out into public except to go to the cemetery everyday. The only ones who knew of my living status was Molly, Mycroft, and Mrs. Hudson. 

I understood what he felt while I was gone. Only this time no one was going to come back. 

So instead I'm going to go to him. I'm taking my life for a second time.

I contacted a couple people from the homeless network to meet me at the cemetery at midnight and made my way to gather a bottle of pain killers.

~OxO~ 

I dressed in my usual clothes, but made sure to wear my purple shirt. He seemed to like that shirt on me best for some reason.

It was dark now. A full moon overhead. Just a few minutes before midnight. I stood on my grave as they were coming across the graveyard with the shovels. Riley, a sweet, ginger haired, woman in her late thirties, and Allestaire, twenty-five, blonde, and the strongest of my network. Of all my network, these two were the closest to me, which really wasn't that close but I trusted them the most. 

They asked me if I was completely sure with this. 

"Of course I am." was my response.

They nodded and started digging, sectioning off the grass individually so it can be placed back evenly over the freshly dug earth after all is said and done. While waiting, I turned and sat upon my gravestone. Looking at his next to mine.

I wasn't religious, so I didn't believe in Heaven nor Hell and I was pretty sure I would just rot in the ground and that be it, but, if by some unlikely chance that there is some sort of afterlife, that's where I hope to find him.

They worked pretty quickly and within nearly two hours they had my empty casket open. 

Riley, not really sure what to do, gave me a bit of an awkward hug. Allestaire gave a pat on my back. Both their way of saying goodbye. 

I took the pain killers and a bottle of water, along with the money I promised from my coat pocket. I took the majority of the pills and chased them down with the water then handed Riley the bottles and layed down in the, surprisingly, still glossy black and silver casket. 

This is it. 

They closed the lid and lowered me down into the ground. 

I felt the pills start to kick in a bit quicker than I expected. My body started feeling just a bit numb.

I heard the dirt being put back in place. 

I felt my heartbeat slow down.

I could no longer hear anything except my own shallow breathing.

I couldn't feel my arms or legs anymore. 

My breathing and heart slowed a bit more.

I closed my eyes. 

With my last breath, I whisper.

"I'm coming."

I fall into my eternal sleep with one last hope of seeing him again. 

My John.

~OxO~

"Sherlock..." 

I hear something.

"Sherlock."

Someone.

"Sherlock. Wake up, Love."

I slowly open my eyes. Everything's bright at first. Soon I find that I'm looking up into the blue, purple, and red sky. It's sunset. I look around and find that I'm still in the cemetery.

I bring my hands in front of my face and see that my skin has gained translucent properties.

"Sherlock, over here, love." 

I look over to where that familiar voice is calling me. 

John. Just as handsome as I remember. 

"I'm here."

He's standing over me. I'm laying down. He reaches a hand down to me and I take it.

As soon as I'm on my feet he wraps me in a loving embrace and I find my voice.

"John... My John."

"I'm here, Sherlock. I'm here." He says softly. "I'm here and I forgive you."

"I missed you." 

"I know. I missed you, too. And I'm sorry." John pulled me in tighter.

"Don't be. You were upset. I understand. I forgive you, too."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

John took my head in his hands, I moved mine to his waist, and we shared a passionate kiss.


End file.
